Children of the Dark Times
by Rebel Sympathizer
Summary: In the end it comes down to one ultimate choice: will you fight against the Darkness... or stand beside it? AU
1. Chapter 1

**Children of the Dark Times**

_In the end it comes down to one ultimate choice: will you fight against the Darkness... or stand beside it? AU_

**A/N**: This story is an old story of mine, written in 2012 (or something like that, I don't have the original script with me now). It's taking me some time getting it rewritten here, especially since I try to correct all the mistakes and misused words the original contains. Let me know if there are any typos or parts hard to understand, I'll certainly correct it.

This story is first part of an AU universe created by me. It focuses on Harry, Riddle and sometimes on Neville, who are living in a world different from the one known in HP series. Okay, let's just see how it all works out.

Also, thanks for reading and please let me know what you think of it!

**Disclaimer:** Everyone knows that Harry Potter and his world doesn't belong to me. Otherwise I would be awfully rich and famous.

* * *

**Chapter one: The world that wasn't**

It was June of his sixth year at Hogwarts when he was finally summoned to Defence Against the Dark Arts professor's office. He was expecting that for quite some time now, but expecting wasn't the same as being ready for the meeting.

He hesitated before knocking at the door. Then he took a deep breath and knocked hard, loudly. It was the least he could do. The last act of rebellion against this man.

A smooth voice from inside called him in. It was a voice one would find attracting. It was strong, powerful, charming when needed, frightening when angry and always demanding nothing else but one's full attention. It suited professor just fine.

"Good afternoon, Mr Potter. Would you like a cup of tea?" the man asked, showing him to empty armchair before the fireplace. Harry knew his professor enjoyed that certain beverage very much, but politely declined. He took the seat, trying to maintain neutral expression while faced with professor Riddle.

The man sitting opposite him was handsome, despite the fact that he was seventy years old. He looked timeless, with his face bearing but a few wrinkles, with his hair still dark and soft and his body slim and tall. His appearance triggered countless rumours of him being a vampire or another creature of the night. Riddle took it all with mild amusement, but never stopped the rumours.

Only his eyes seemed to betray his age. Dark blue, they were the eyes of someone who has seen it all and now the world hold no mysteries before him. They were the eyes of the wisest and the most powerful wizard alive, who deserved respect, if not just plain worship.

Professor Riddle took a slip from his cup, looking in his fine robes as noble as a king.

"You know why I wanted to meet with you, Mr Potter"

"Yes, I do, Professor" Harry answered, his back stiff and his eyes staring at the point a little to the left from the other man. "I quit DA"

"Indeed. Unfortunately, that is not all you did. Or should I say more accurately, what you failed to do. Not only have you quitted Advanced Defence Arts, you have also practically failed my class. Never in my career as a teacher I had seen such fall from grace in such a short time. From the best student to the worst in one year. Quite astonishing." Harry felt his face begin to redden. As much as he tried to keep his neutral expression, as much as he wanted to stay above anything his professor said, he couldn't stop an ashamed look crossing his face. He forced himself to concentrate. He knew that Riddle would try all his tricks, manipulation of his emotions being only the first one.

"I tried, Professor, but it seems NEWT level classes are beyond my grasp" He said, his tone a little defending. "No matter how long I spend studying, I hardly make any progress. That is also why I stopped attending DA meetings" He dropped his head, trying to appear resigned. "There is no place for me there."

"There is one person who has the right to decide who is allowed to attend Advanced Defence Arts and you are not that person, Mr Potter" said Riddle coldly. "You quit when I tell you to do so and you are obligated to attend until I tell you to stop. You are still a member of DA. You will continue to attend meetings. Is that clear, Mr Potter?"

"But-"

"_Is that clear?_" The man's voice was cold and cruel. It sent shivers down Harry's back.

"Yes" he said, his hands tightening into fists, trying to keep calm.

"Now, since you neglected your duty as a member of DA, I am forced to give you a detention." Harry growled internally. _Great, that's all I needed_, he thought. He had a hunch who he will have that detention with, and he was proved right as he listened to his professor. "I believe that two hours each day till the end of the school year will be enough to improve your Defence skills. We will start your detention tomorrow at six in the morning. Try to be on time, you know I don't approve lateness." With that, he sat himself more comfortably in his armchair, clearly indicating that the meeting was over.

But young Gryffindor remained sitting, refusing to give up so easily.

"There really is no point in me attending DA meetings. I'm hopeless at Defence."

"I have faith in you, Potter. Especially since your mysterious failure concerns only Defence Against the Dark Arts. Other NEWT level classes you excel in. Professor Flitwick expressed surprise when I mention how you are struggling in my classes. He considered you to be quite gifted in Charms, especially Curses which are commonly used in Defence Against the Dark Arts." Harry could swore his heart really skipped a bit. He could feel blood draining from his face. "Truly, in light of this fact, your _disability _to do well in Defence presents quite disturbing image. Do you know what I mean, Harry?"

_He knows_, thought Harry with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Of course, he always knew everything. Merlin, he even knew Hermione does most of the Perfect duties, leaving him little to do himself and that wasn't a common knowledge. Professor Riddle seemed to know about Hogwarts and it's secrets more than anyone. How could he not know what Harry was doing?

And yet, the man was not omnipotent. He couldn't know everything that was happening. He couldn't see into Potter Manor to find out what is going on. It was all a manipulation. He wanted Harry to confess under the false pretence that he already knew. _Nice one, Riddle. But I'm better than that._

"I-" he started, but was again unbalanced by the older man cutting him off.

"I believe you know how much I despise lying, Harry." Of course he knew, it was a common knowledge among students. You learned that pretty fast if you saw (or happened to be the unlucky one) what happened to those that dared to lie to Professor Riddle. "For your sake, let's stick to the truth."

Riddle put aside his empty cup and locked his hands under his chin, giving Harry his full attention. Potter dropped his gaze to the carpet. He could feel the eyes of the man opposite him boring into him.

He couldn't lie, not to Tom Riddle. But he could hide some facts, preventing him from knowing it all.

Because the truth-

Oh, the truth was so much more dangerous.

* * *

It was a Gold Age for the Wizarding Britain. After Grindelwald's terror was cut short by Albus Dumbledore, witches and wizards busied themselves with peace-time activities. And so great museums, universities, theaters, the Fountain of Knowledge Magical Library, Morgana's Opera, The Magnificent Learning Hall of Merlin and all other institutions came to life. With the war more and more forgotten, culture and education reached the highest level in the last age. One had never seen such a peaceful time for so long.

If only Albus Dumbledore, bless his golden heart, lived long enough to see all of this! It was such a tragedy to loose the great man to a silly experiment with magical artefact of his own making. A pity, really – after twenty-five years of peace such a tragedy stuck.

Only few still remembered that the peace was disturbed earlier, in the sixties. Even though it wasn't openly discussed, everyone knew someone who heard from another source about strange signs all around the country. Mysterious disappearances of witches and wizards, dead bodies showing up in random places, reports of night disturbances caused by "drunken wizards, Honey, let's go back to bed". Suspiciously looking men started to appear in the pubs, whispering to themselves about a dark wizard.

No one wanted to accept those strange events as a sign that the time of peace was over.

"There is no war, sir. It's just better not to leave your hose after dark." they said.

Then Albus Dumbledore died. The darkness surrounding the Wizarding Britain started to grow stronger with each day. It was time for a new hero to emerge.

Tom Riddle was that hero. Said to be the brightest and most powerful wizard alive after Dumbledore and at the same time a sharp and smart Slytherin, which endeared him not only former Hogwarts Headmaster's supporters, but also those who found Albus' softness undesired. Head of Magical Law Enforcement and before that an excellent Auror, he was loved by the crowds for his wisdom and judgment. He never tried to become the Minister of Magic, though he had support of almost all of the Wizarding Britain. Many wondered why he hadn't, but soon they found the most fitting, perfect answer.

He was a modest man. Succeeding from one of the Founders himself, he was a pureblooded heir to the fortune of his noble ancestors. He could do whatever he wished to. As an Auror he fought the rising darkness, as the Head of MLE he became the beacon of light for the wizards and witches, bringing hope to their hearts after Dumbledore was gone. He made the darkness go away, restoring the peace at it's most stable. Finally, with the country stabilized, he choose to quit the Ministry of Magic and take over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. He wanted to pass his vast knowledge to children – the most precious treasure of every country. He wanted them to be strong, proud, bright and powerful beyond all imagination. He desired all the best for them, for he loved them like he would his own.

Minerva McGonagall welcomed him with open arms. And so, nearly ten years after Albus' tragic death, almost thirty-five years since Grindelwald fell, professor Riddle began his teaching career.

He was an excellent teacher. He inspired respect and obedience. He awarded those worth prize and punished those who failed him. He taught young wizards and witches with passion and great devotion to his subject and his students. He dedicated all his time for Hogwarts. Maybe McGonagall was the Headmistress, but Tom Riddle was one in everything but the title. It was no secret that he run that school. Everyone respected and carried out his decisions.

That man was a devoted teacher, who loved his students so much, that he dedicated all of his free time to them.

That said, he took the most promising wizards and witches; the brightest, the smartest, the most powerful. He took them under his wing and created the exclusive Defence Arts for younger students and Advanced Defence Arts for sixth and seventh years. A club for skilful little wizards and witches, where they learned under his guidance more than was covert in DADA classes.

What they learned, exactly? Why so few, why not every one?

_"Defence Arts and __Advanced __Defence Arts_ covers material that wasn't introduced in Defence classes... for a few reasons. It requires more power and concentration from the students, therefore only the best of you have any hopes of managing to learn the curses covered here. Before you rest on your laurels, I must warn you that I will demand of you concentration, dedication and total obedience. The ones who will struggle to keep up the pace of work will be dismissed from further attendance, those who will not follow the rules I'll give you will share their fate. 

_"But if you devote yourselves to Defence Arts, I can guarantee you the power and glory beyond the grasp of your peers. You will become the elite of Wizarding World. The power to change the world will be at your whim. Follow my guidance with obedience. Only then the world will lay at your feet."_

Well, they surely learned how to defend themselves. What else could DA cover, right?

Of course right.

* * *

"I know how it looks like, Professor. My efforts at Defence are half-hearted. You said it numerous times, that you won't achieve anything if you don't have determination and a will to succeed."

Riddle said nothing, waiting for the rest of explanation. Harry felt as if his every word was being assessed in the category of 'truth' or 'lie'.

"All the summer I wondered about my future. Since I was a child, I wanted to become an Auror, like my father. But over the summer I understood how much I enjoy flying" _Here you go, Harry_."I don't want to be an Auror anymore. I want to be a professional Quidditch player. Madame Hooch told me that I'm an excellent Seeker with huge talent, one not to waste. She asked me if I would be interested in professional Quidditch. She said she can invite Falmouth Falcons' Captain to Gryffindor Match. I said yes."

It was mostly the truth. He really agreed to Hooch's proposition and Falcons' Captain have already confirmed his presence. His best friends, Neville and Ron, who were both on the team (Ron as a Keeper and Neville as a Beater) were as excited as he was for the opportunity to present themselves. They also supported his decision to become professional Seeker. Their support was invaluable as he found it hard to keep up his enthusiasm, because-

_But that's not the thought I want to risk in front of Riddle. Concentrate, Potter!_

"That match is in a few days and it's hard for me to focus on such a mundane things like Defence classes-" The older man frowned with disapproval at his words, but said nothing, still staring out through the window. Still, Harry inwardly cringed at his clumsiness. "I just don't have the heart to Defence anymore. That match is my chance to do something I love. It's outcome will decide my future. I'm really happy... And I need more practice..." He trailed off, unnerved by the silence of the other man.

"A Seeker. You want to be a Seeker, Mr Potter" Riddle seemed to consider something before saying "How disappointing."

"Sir?" asked Harry, surprised.

"You are a natural duellist. With more education and practice you could become a great Auror. Your name could mean something, your deeds could save _thousands_." He looked at him and smirked slightly. "On the other hand, Quidditch will bring you fame, ardent fans and money. But it won't bring you power over them. And even your fame will be gone when you will no longer be fit to play. What happens then, Harry? When you are too old to play, forgotten and bankrupt?" He looked again away from him, suddenly dismissive. "What a waste _that_ would be."

"Well, I love flying." the boy said, slightly angered with the dismissal. "I want to do something I love. After my career ends, I could still use my fame to work as a Flying teacher."

"If it makes you happy..." Riddle shrugged, but his dismissal was distorted by the focus with which he observed Potter's face.

Harry opened his mouth to happily confirm his words, but no sound could escape him. It would be a lie; pure, easily detectable lie. He wasn't happy with his career decision and Riddle knew it- or suspected it. If Harry lied now, his Professor will know it to be a lie and will punish him for his deception. But if he already knew that Harry wasn't truthful with him... It was too late to turn back, he decided and kept his mouth shut.

"I know that flying is not the only thing you love, Mr Potter." said Tom after a moment, his face not betraying his thoughts. He didn't comment on the sudden silence nor his lack of confirmation. Young Gryffindor didn't know if it was good or bad. "You also love duelling, isn't it so? You love proving your strength, your superiority over your opponent, _your power_. Everyone at Hogwarts remembers the Duelling Matches held at our school, especially the ones you fought against late Mr Malfoy."

_Damn!_ Harry cursed in his mind. He could swear that man knew everything. That thought made him feel weak and sick. He started to sweat and was sure that at mention of Mal- _his_ name he paled. Riddle was sure to notice. _Shit!_

"I like-" _liked _" duelling, but I chose Quidditch." _Enough of this topic already! _"Anyway, there are more Aurors than necessary in the time of peace, while there aren't enough good Seekers."

"But the times could change. World cannot live in peace forever, Mr Potter. That isn't how the world works. Even now, while Britain is save from war, there are people, Muggles or Wizards it doesn't matter, who are fighting with each other. We have lived in peace for so long that we see war as something foreign, something which occurs everywhere but here." There was a distant look in Tom Riddle's eyes as he shared his thoughts with his young student. His face remained stoic. "I'm afraid that we are all in for a big surprise. The war is on the horizon, whether we accept it or choose to remain blind. When the time comes, Aurors will be needed more than ever. Preparations must be made, for sooner or later, and I believe it will be the former rather than the latter, we will find ourselves at war."

Harry was tempted to ask: Why? Are you planning to start one soon?

But he was smarter than this. He was almost sorted to Slytherin.

_And that surely counts for something_, he thought as he nodded to Tom Riddle's words.

* * *

Harry Potter was born on October 31st in 1981. He lived with his parents and two siblings in Godric's Hollow. Martha Potter, two years younger than Harry, was a very lovely and polite young lady. She had dark hair and green eyes, just like Harry and Lily. She was very helpful around the house, always willing to help somebody. She often took care of Ben, the youngest Potter and the most troublesome one, who inherited not only his father's hair, but his eyes as well. Only one year younger than her, he still managed to turn the house upside down, usually encouraged by the eldest child. One could say it was a very merry house, especially when Sirius, Peter and Remus (respectively the eldest's, middle's and the youngest's Godfathers) dropped by for a visit.

Harry liked playing with his siblings, lovely Martha and mischief-maker Ben, but still prefer company of his Godfather. Sirius was very often seen around the house. His playboy manners hadn't changed over the years, which stabilized his bachelor status. It suited Harry well, because this way he spend more time with him. Sirius spoiled him, often saying that he had "way too much cash, being the sexiest and most famous Auror". Young Potters spent many afternoons listening to tales of his adventures as an Auror and a Marauder.

"Uncle Sirius' stories are waaay more interesting than yours" Ben once confessed to his father and Peter. It made them laugh, but uncle Sirius was proud of that praise.

James, father of the three, was an Auror, better-known as a member of Black-Potter-Pettigrew group. Even at the time of peace, there was always work for Aurors. He tried and mostly succeeded at leaving his work out of his house. It allowed him to be "a cool daddy" as his children declared. He took them to Quidditch matches and learned them how to fly. They seemed to have inherited his flying talent, to great amusement of Lily, who wasn't much of a flyer herself. James organized two Quidditch teams out of the Potters, Pettigrews, Weasleys and neighbours. He also regularly meet up with Remus, Peter and Sirius for the full moon nights, when Marauders once again ruled the world.

Harry loved and respected his father and always looked up to him, even more than to Sirius. It was because of him that he always wanted to become an Auror.

That was the house that Lily had to take care of. Between work and house, she found little time for herself.

"But my family is worth every moment I devote to them" she said to anyone who dared to imply that she needed some rest. Lily was a kind, lovely and cheerful mother, who loved her children and husband more than solving mysteries of Department of Mysteries as Unspeakable. Whatever she worked on, Potters could only wonder about. It didn't stop them from trying to guess:

"Are you working on a spell that could tidy my room?"

"There's already one, Ben. It's called _Scourgify_."

"So why can't we use it?"

"You are too small to use magic, Ben."

"Always too small..."

"Mum isn't creating new spells, she's working on some new, unknown magical creatures. Maybe some mix between unicorn and dragon? What a sweet creature that would be!"

"Yeah, and while you were hugging it, it would burn you to ash or maybe stab you with its deadly corn."

"Harry!"

"Right, like you have better idea."

"I do. I think Mum's working on a new weapon for the Aurors. Something like sword, but a lot cooler."

"And that's your _clever_ idea?"

"It sure beats yours."

"No, it doesn't"

"Yes, it does-"

"What do you think, Daddy?" Little Ben used this moment to ask his question, stopping the other two from arguing as they listened curiously.

"Well, I think even if by some miracle we found out what your Mummy is working on, I'm sure she wouldn't tell us we're right" said James, earning an amused gaze of Lily. She stayed quiet for the whole conversation, which made James wonder if there was some curse put on every worker of DoM to make them mute when someone nearby was discussing their work. "But I think she's working on a potion."

"A potion?" There was evident disappointment in the voices of three Potters.

"Yes. Your mother is a great at potions and that's my guess."

"I also guess it's a potion since you work with _Snivellus_ again" he added to her late at night, when they were alone in their bedroom.

"His name is Severus" Lily calmly answered, a curious look on her face. "And why do you think I work with Sev?"

"You spent a lot of time in front of the mirror every morning. I mean, more time than usual." He dodged the pillow Lily threw at him.

"Are you jealous?" she asked seriously. He answered in the same tone of voice.

"No" he said with certainty. "No. I trust you. And I know he lost his chance long ago."

Lily smiled and kissed him lightly. He kissed her back.

"So, why do you spent so much time in front of the mirror when you're not planning on taking him as your lover?"

She smiled, knowing his curiosity knew no end.

"To make him see what he lost" she whispered, her heart still filled with longing for her old friend.

For no matter how much Severus and her tried to mend the broken bonds of friendship, nothing could repair the damage the Dark Mark on his left forearm had done.

**End of chapter one**

* * *

**A/N:** Here, it's done! Let me know what you think. And don't worry if you're confused right know - next chapter(s) will explain it all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Children of the dark times**

**A/N:** It's strange how much more you want to write when you're rewriting an already finished story. Between all my duties (and my laziness) it's hard to find the time to just sit and write. But work always stimulates my mind to create stories, so: here you are!

I'd like to thank **Guava2** and an **anonymous Guest**, who reviewed my story. Many thanks! Also thanks for all the favourites and alerts.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter two: Children at play**

Harry had a good childhood. There was always someone nearby to play with. Between spending his time with Martha and Ben, he had Ron Weasley, his best friend. Together, they hunted for adventures in Godric's Hollow and the Burrow. But some days they ceased their fight against invisible monsters to just sit and daydream about going to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"My dad knew Albus Dumbledore. You know, the one who was Headmaster of Hogwarts before McGonagall" he told Ron once. "He was friends with my grandparents, sometimes dropped by to visit them, dad says. He was fighting against that Dark Wizard and was looking for people to help him."

"What Dark Wizard? What are you talking about?" asked Ron with confusion.

"You know – THE Dark Wizard, the one who killed many people when our parents were kids?" His friend didn't show any recognition, but Harry just rolled his eyes and continued. "Anyway, Dumbledore died just before dad went to Hogwarts. My mum never met him since she's a Muggleborn, but dad did and he thinks that there's no way Dumbledore died in that accident. He was way smarter than that. I bet it was that Dark Wizard who killed him and made it look like an accident."

"Why would he do that?"

"How do I know? I'm not him, I can't say what he thinks"

"No, you're not" Ron agreed with slight snigger. More soberly he asked: "But don't you think that Riddle would know he was murdered? He was an Auror then, the best there was. He must have been on that case."

"Riddle was an Auror?"

"Yeah, didn't you know?" He asked with the same tone Harry used when he told his friend about the Dark Wizard. Harry made a face at him.

"I'm not his fan, unlike some people present here"

"You should be, he's the best wizard there is!" Harry decided to keep to himself that those were the same words his father used to describe Dumbledore. "I met Professor Riddle when he once showed up for dinner. I told you, that he-" Ron once more launched into a tale of Tom Riddle's visit to the Burrow. Harry turned him out, having heard that story many times before. Instead, he let himself wonder what was so special about that man.

* * *

When Harry finally got his letter, Potter family went to Diagon Alley to buy all the things necessary for a first year student.

His parents wanted to buy him an owl, but he had other ideas.

"I don't need an owl. There are plenty in Hogwarts, I can use one of them if I need to" he argued.

"Mum, dad, please please please! Buy me that owl! Oh, please" begged Martha while Ben was looking through the shop muttering about "finding dragon's egg" under his breath, regardless the shop they were currently in sold only owls.

"All in the right time, honey" said James to his daughter. "When you get your letter, we'll buy you that owl"

"But it will take _forever_!" she complained.

"I don't understand why you don't want an owl, Harry" said Lily as they finally left Eeylops Owl Emporium.

"I told you I don't need it, mum. But I could use a broom" he answered with a hopeful smile, turning pleading eyes at his mother.

"A broom? Why would you need a broom at your first year?"

"I can't play Quidditch without one"

"Who said you'll get on the Team?" mocked his dad.

"Hello, I'm Harry Potter – the best Quidditch player there is!"

"There are plenty of brooms in Hogwarts, you can use one if you need to" Lily twisted her son's words for her own ends.

"But mum, I can't play Quidditch on a school broom!" He whined in response. "They're slow and worn and only First Years use them for flying!"

"Sweetie, but _you are_ a First Year"

"Okay, so maybe First Years who don't know how to fly and are afraid of falling down. Dad told me that those brooms are so old they can't even rise more than three feet, didn't you dad?"

"Right, I did" agreed his dad, maintaining neutral expression. His lips twitched a little when he looked at Lily. She rolled her eyes.

"Dad's pulling your leg then. I remember something else entirely from my time at Hogwarts."

"You do?" James grinned at her. "I thought that you'd have tried to forget such a traumatic experience as flying lessons"

"It wasn't a traumatic experience" she responded, although she blushed. "I just don't like flying"

"We know, Mum" said Martha, her face sympathetic. "Dad told us how bad you're on broom"

"Yep, he said you're terrible!" agreed Ben, forgetting about the egg.

"What?" Lily turned to her husband. " James Potter, what kind of nonsense have you been telling our children?"

Harry choose that moment to sneak off to Quidditch supplies shop, leaving Martha and Ben behind, who watched their parent's bickering with growing amusement. He knew his dad liked to tease his mother and although it was usually fun to watch, especially if dad filled them in his newest plan to annoy their mum, today he had more important goal. He stopped before the shop window displaying the newest broom: Nimbus 2000. He sighed, looking at the magnificent sight before him. He imagined himself flying, wining one Quidditch match after the other. He was brought out from his musings when he heard a snicker beside him. Harry turned and saw a pale boy with a snobbish look on his face. He spotted Harry looking at him and turned to him.

"Are they your parents?" he asked and continued without waiting for an answer. "I'm not surprised you're ashamed and avoid being seen with them. I would be too if I had Mudbloods for parents"

"I would be too if I had such a face" Harry answered, matching the smirk the other boy wore with his own.

The pale boy, who Harry was positive was a Malfoy (he later told him his name in a pompous way, as if it should mean something to Harry), didn't react well to this. When words failed him, he decided to use physical strength.

Harry got detention for punching Draco Malfoy (Ben got one too for all the support he gave his older brother in the fight which broke out between Malfoy and Harry, and a few words no one expected such a young boy to know). Although he won with his soon-to-be school enemy, he lost this way his battle for a broom. It looked like "outrageous behaviour unworthy of eleven years old wizard" didn't gain him any favour, even though, as Harry explained, he defended his parents' honour.

"We don't need you to defend our honour, Harry. We are grown ups, we can take care of ourselves" his father berated him, but his lecture was ruined by James' amused expression.

"If you acted like grown ups, none of this would happen" muttered Harry, unhappy with losing his chance to get a broom.

_"Harry James Potter!_" He winced, realising that his mum must have heard him. _And here goes my chance to get it for Christmas._

But every cloud's got a silver lining. Harry got something even better: his wand.

Eleven inches, Aspen, Dragon's heart.

Excellent for duelling.

* * *

Harry first saw Professor Riddle when he was sitting by the Gryffindor table, freshly sorted into the house he wanted to be (the stupid Sorting Hat wanted to put him in Slytherin – but there was no way he could be sharing dormitory with Malfoy for seven years). He knew everything about the man, just like every other First Year. That is, except for Neville, whose parents seemed to be immune to Tom Riddle's charm and sniffed at every attempt their son made to become another Riddle's fanboy. Harry sympathized with him, because the Potters felt the same. Luckily, he had an ally in Sirius, who told him everything he wanted and more.

"But remember, kid, don't go bragging about your knowledge in front of your parents too soon." Sirius said to him after agreeing to this 'prank'. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Padfood, I'm not stupid. I know better" he said. Why would he ruin all of the work he put in convincing his uncle that getting information about Riddle was just another way to tease dad, he didn't know. Really, after all the trouble? "I don't want to attend your funeral just yet" He added with a grin, which made Sirius laugh in his barking way.

He knew that Riddle was once an Auror, excellent at that, better than father and Sirius. Better than anybody.

Harry wanted to be like him someday.

He wanted to be the best.

* * *

It was in Hogwarts that he really got to know Neville. Before that, he only met him from time to time, usually when Harry's parents invited Longbottoms to one of their children's birthday party and vice versa. Neville and Cornell Longbottom, his three years younger sister, were nice kids, but they always seemed to be a bit too tense in presence of other children. Potter siblings tried to overcome awkward feelings and generally managed to play nicely, but no strong friendship was ever made.

In Hogwarts, Neville seemed more relaxed. Without supervision from his parents, he could do what he pleased. So, he found the courage to finally do all the things he always wanted, but his parents forbade him.

"Seriously, you don't know how to fly?" asked shocked Ron. Neville blushed.

"I told you, after that incident when I was four, mum and dad never even let me go near another broom!" he explained, slightly irritated that he had to mention his humiliation yet again.

"Maybe flying isn't for you?" Harry suggested, thinking about his mother, which automatically directed his thoughts to another person, sitting across the courtyard, surrounded by fellow Slytherins. Draco Malfoy caught Harry's eyes and directed a nasty sneer at him. Harry in response smiled broadly and waved at him. Malfoy looked away to his disturbed classmates, as much unsure of what that friendly gesture was supposed to mean as his companions were.

Neville eyed Harry with puzzled expression "You two play some mysterious games."

"Oh, I just wanted to be nice to Draco. He's going to have a bad day in a few hours" Harry and Ron exchanged knowing looks with a mischief all over they faces. Neville just shook his head.

"Right, I guess I'm better off not knowing. So, are you going to help me?"

"If you want to learn how to fly, why not ask Madame Hooch?"

"I already asked her, but she told me that's what the flying lessons are for. But I'm a Pureblood, how will I look in those lessons, being the only one aside from Muggleborns who don't know how to fly?"

"Okay, but why do you want _us_ to teach you?"

"Well, I asked Hermione and she-"

"You asked _who_?"

"Hermione Granger. You know, the one with funny hair." Neville apologized his friend silently, but the fact was her hair were her most distinguishable trait. No one else owned such hair. Harry and Ron instantly knew who he meant.

"Oh, _her_."

"Her hair isn't the only thing that's funny about her."

"She's okay. She's nice and knows lots of things, that's why I asked her if she could help me." Neville decided to drop the subject of his friend and get to the matter at hand. " But since she's a Muggleborn, she have never flown before. But Hermione heard that you guys wanted to try out next year for Quidditch Team, so she told me to ask you for help." Seeing no enthusiasm on his fellow classmates faces, he added. "It's always better to learn form the best, don't you think?"

"Damn right, as my brother Charlie says" concluded Ron, smiling. "What do you say, Harry? Are we going to make him into a Quidditch Player?"

Harry pretended to inspect him from head to toes. "The road to mastering the fine art of flying is long and full of difficulties. Flattery will only get you that far. Are you ready, apprentice?" he said in mock-serious voice.

"I'm ready" answered Neville in the same manner.

From flying lessons to spending time together, three boys got close. First from time to time, then more often than not, Hermione joined their group, though it was more for studying than seeking adventures.

"I'd rather you stop sneaking into the Forbidden Forest. Professor Riddle-"

"-is fine with it" Ron interrupted her with dismissal. "Seriously, you think he doesn't know what we're doing? It's _Riddle_, he knows everything!"

"But it's forbidden!"

"He doesn't care, as long as we use our heads to stay out of trouble" Harry joined the argument.

"Clearly, you don't use them!" Ron played up a gasp, covering his mouth while Harry clutched his heart.

"Hermione, you hurt us!" She just glared at them and turned to Neville.

"You seem more reasonable than those two" she said to him. "Don't you see that breaking school rules is bad?"

Ron and Harry turned to look at him too, wanting to hear what he thought. Neville Longbottom, a little bit of a butterfingers, all his life under watchful eyes of his parents. It was his aversion to being controlled that made him smile widely and say: "But it's more fun than obeying rules!"

His two new friends cheered his words.

* * *

Neville learned a lot from his friends. Flying, sneaking, hiding, planting Dungbombs in specially selected places, running through the Forest or just generally exploring Hogwarts after dark – the list was endless. He kept all of his new knowledge form the letters he sent regularly to his parents – especially the one concerning Professor Riddle.

He never heard much of him, he never even spared him much thought until Hogwarts Express, when every single magically raised child was talking about him. Everyone that is, but him.

"Don't worry, we'll tell you everything" Harry assured him, when he confessed in front of them his ignorance. "I know the feeling. My parents don't like Riddle either. Luckily, Uncle Sirius told me some things about Riddle. And Ron, of course."

"Yeah, Harry was as ignorant as can be. But look how he turned out under my wings" Ron took pose of a proud teacher showing off his particularly bright pupil. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Don't puff up too much. You may explode someday"

"I'm not puffing up, you're mistaking me for Draco"

"Good one" They high-fived it.

"So, my new apprentice, first you need to know that Tom Riddle is the heir to the most noble, Pureblooded family-"

* * *

Harry wanted to be just like Riddle, to be the best. So did Ron, so did Hermione and so did Neville. That was the goal that united them despite all their differences and quarrels. That was the reason they met whenever they could to study together.

Harry wanted more, though. He studied hard, learning extra spells and duelling techniques. He spent all his time between classes, meals (and in the future Quidditch) learning. He even got to the point when Ron named him 'Hermione's boyfriend'.

"Come on, tell her how you feel! Don't restrict yourself to just coming to library to watch her through your pile of books" Ron said, making Neville laugh. They were sitting in the library. Hermione was in one of the rows of bookshelves, looking for yet another useful book.

Harry glanced at him pointedly.

"Look who's talking! You're sitting here as well. Looking at your grades, it's not for learning" Ron flushed a little, which made both Harry and Neville smile.

"My grades are as good as yours and Nev's" he defended himself on one of the fronts while passing over the other one.

Grades were important. Everyone, no matter if it was a Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor or Slytherin, _everyone _wanted to be top of their year.

Everyone wanted to be in the prestigious Defence Arts club and good grades were the only means to join it.

Though not everyone succeeded. In their second year, Professor Riddle picked up about six top students in DADA class – each six from different House. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville were in the lucky six.

"Welcome, students, to the final test. The one which will assess your skills and knowledge. The one which will decide your worth."

"There's _a test_?" whispered Ron to his friends, appalled and suddenly nervous.

Most of the gathered students wore the same expression. Professor Riddle surveyed them calmly, a slight smirk creeping up to his lips.

"I see now that most of you have already forgotten my first lesson. I think it's time you remembered it. Anyone?"

Hermione's hand travelled up faster than possible, her face betraying the excitement and self-contentment she felt.

"Never lay on your laurels" she recited. "There's always a step higher, no matter how much hidden it is at the time"

"Excellent, Miss Granger" Hermione beamed at her pleased teacher. "Now, we shall start the test."

"What? Without any preparation?" asked Padma Patil with frightened look.

"Constant vigilance!" shouted Neville to her. A few of the gathered smiled at that, thinking about the late Alastor Moody.

"Exactly, Mr Longbottom. Everyone get ready! One, two –"

The test was unexpected for most of them ("Of course, _Hermione knew_ there'll be a test, but she wouldn't be herself if she told anyone" complained Ron later, but Harry kept quiet. He had expected it too and prepared himself a little. It was good Ron didn't know that). Sixteen students successfully passed it and were welcomed into DA: four Gryffindors, two Hufflepuffs, four Ravenclaws and six Slytherins.

"Talk about favouritism" muttered Ron, watching Draco Malfoy and his classmates with dislike. Neville just shrugged, happy that he and his friends made it into DA.

"I'm sure Draco's _loving it_ that our four got to DA" said Harry. And sure enough, just before the first meeting, Draco with Crabbe, Goyle, and the rest of the lucky six cornered them.

"I don't know what you're doing in DA. It's for the best students. You don't fit in, especially _her_." He said, sneering at Hermione.

"What do you mean?" asked Neville with foreboding.

"What I mean is that no _Mudblood_ should be allowed to join DA!"

Ron opened his mouth to reply but Harry beat him to it.

"No dim-witted moron should be allowed to join it too"

"Are you calling me a moron, Potty?"

"No, you just did" he smiled innocently while his friends laughed. Even Hermione smiled slightly.

"You think you're funny, Potter? Let's see what you'll say to this" Draco answered pulling out his wand, red-faced. Before he could say more, one of Malfoy's friends grabbed his arm.

"Put your wand away and shut up" Nott hissed just before Professor Riddle suddenly appeared beside them.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, surveying gathered students.

"Not at all, Professor. We just wanted to congratulate our classmates getting to Defence Arts" answered the same boy who stopped Malfoy. Ron snored angrily at this, but otherwise kept quiet. Riddle glanced at him briefly, noticing that Neville and four of Slytherins shifted slightly. Hermione was looking down as was Malfoy, still with his face flushed. Harry just looked at Nott with surprise and curiosity.

"Is that right, Mr Potter?" Riddle asked the young Gryffindor, who looked him in the eye. Tom could see in his eyes the battle between his urge to tell the truth and his wish to _please Professor Riddle_. Inside he smirked at the childish desire, but at the outside he kept his mask, waiting for Potter boy to decide what to do.

He didn't need to wait long. In fact, decision was made in just seconds.

"Yes, sir. They didn't mean any harm" the words which escaped Potter's mouth seemed to surprise not only his friends, but also the owner. It was hilarious watching the boy's eyes widen in surprise and alarm, his cheeks colouring slightly with shame. But then his gaze hardened, determined to go ahead with his choice, to face the consequences. Tom's face stayed devoid of any emotion as he answered:

"Good. From now on, you will be a team. I won't tolerate any spitefulness between my students. Is that clear?"

A murmured acknowledgment was heard from all of them. Without another word Riddle turned and went to the classroom used for DA meetings. Slytherins followed closely behind him, throwing an occasional curious glance behind, but Gryffindors stayed in place.

"What the hell was that, mate?" asked Ron with anger in a hushed voice. "Why didn't you tell him the truth? Why help Nott and _Malfoy_?"

"I didn't help them. I just thought- I don't know, like it was the right thing to do? They owe us now, we can use that against them." said Harry, his heart beating fast. There was no way he was going to tell his friends the truth. _Who chooses his teacher, no matter how brilliant, over his own friends?_

"I could use watching Draco-poo getting punished by Riddle" Ron muttered unhappily. "Besides, since when you're acting like a bloody Slytherin?"

"How are you feeling, Hermione?" asked Neville, the only one who seemed to remember about her.

"I'm fine" she answered and then looked at Ron and Harry, who shifted guiltily, berating themselves silently for so easily letting her slip from their minds. "I don't blame you for saying this. I know Professor Riddle already knew what happened. It wouldn't have changed anything. For _them_, I'm still beneath them"

"Don't say that, Hermione!"

"You're way above them"

"You're worth six Malfoys and two-and-a-half Notts"

"Why a half?"

When they finally moved, it looked like they all accepted Harry's choice and explanations. Harry breathed a relieved sigh, but next second he learned it was premature.

"You know what my dad always says?" Neville asked him lightly, letting Hermione and Ron go before them. "It's a difficult choice, between what is right and what is easy. It's your decision which you will choose, but choose wisely. Your choice is like a little stone thrown in the mountains: it seems insignificant, but it can cause an avalanche"

"You're saying I should have argued with Nott and his lot?" Harry asked, resigned and still a little ashamed of what he did.

"No. I'm just saying that you should be careful about such things. Words can hurt more than deeds." he said. They both were thinking of Hermione. Harry nodded.

"I know" he smiled slightly. "Another wisdom from your father?"

"Yeah" Neville smiled back, but then squirted a little at the thought that his dad wouldn't be happy with what he was doing now. "Just remember to be careful. You don't know what your decisions may cause"

At that time, Neville hadn't known the true value of his words.

Tom Riddle's eyes gleamed slightly when he spotted Harry Potter coming through the door. The boy who put him and his ambition before his friends. And a Potter, at that. Oh, Albus would've been disappointed. But Tom was pleased. He could certainly take advantage of such feelings. He'll take a closer look at this boy. Who knows, maybe he'll turn out to be a valuable asset?

Neville hadn't known the true value of his words.

When he did, it was already too late.

* * *

Soon, differences between four Houses disappeared for DA. Together, faced with the same training, they became-

"A team" said Hufflepuffs.

"An army" said Ravenclaws.

"Riddle's Army" added Gryffindors.

Slytherins just smirked at their colleagues efforts to find a suitable name to what they became.

But when they were alone, among themselves they whispered two words:

"Death Eaters"

* * *

_"I'm afraid that we are all in for a big surprise. The war is on the horizon, whether we accept it or choose to remain blind. When the time comes, Aurors will be needed more than ever. Preparations must be made, for sooner or later, and I believe it will be the former rather than the latter, we will find ourselves at war."_

_Harry was tempted to ask: Why? Are you planning to start one soon?_

_But he was smarter than this. He was almost sorted to Slytherin._

_And that surely counts for something__, he thought as he nodded to Tom Riddle's words._

"If there's war, I'll gladly fight for my country. It doesn't mean I can't in the meantime do what I want with my life" _My future isn't your concern_, he wanted to say, but knew better than to do so.

"Oh, but I do care what you will do with your life. It would pain me to see your potential going to waste"

"Why?" Harry asked, suspicion and distrust clearly visible in his eyes, despite his intentions.

"Because I'm rather fond of you, Mr Potter" At Harry's look, he elaborated "You are my favourite student, Harry. Skilled, smart, powerful. With little more guidance, you will become a great wizard."

"I'm not sure I want that" the words slipped out of his mouth before he had a chance to think about them. It reminded him the run-in with Slytherins he and his friends had before the first real DA meeting. But like then, it was too late to turn back as his Professor asked him to elaborate.

"I'm not sure I want to become a great wizard. I don't think I could hold up the responsibilities which come with that much power"

"That is why I'm here: to help you. To guide you" Riddle changed tactics. The man's words were so soft, so smoothing. Potter wanted to agree with him, he wanted to take the comfort his teacher offered - but he couldn't. How could he ever trust this man, after what happened in his fifth year?

"I don't think so" he stuttered, shaking his head to get rid of the effect Riddle's words had on him. _You're only here to create an army! You couldn't care less about me, what's one solider less or more?_

"I do care about you, Harry" Potter looked at his Professor in shock, green eyes meeting dark blue. Tom looked back in amusement "What? You are almost telepathingly shouting out your thoughts. But we're getting off topic. I do care about what happens, Harry. Haven't I proved it through all those years? I took you under my wings and trained you to become who you were meant to be- a great wizard, an Auror, maybe even my successor. We are so much alike. We both crave power and glory. You are almost like a son to me. I gave you all of my time and shared my knowledge with you, believing you will put it to good use. Instead, you decide to waste your life and potential you hold. I'm very disappointed."

Snares of manipulation where all there in his Professor's words, trying to pull Harry down. His heart almost stopped for a moment when he heard that they were alike. His throat was gripped with cold fear. He couldn't be like Tom Riddle.

Tom Riddle wasn't the man he was supposed to be. He was cold and cruel.

He was dark. Probably a murderer.

Maybe even the Dark Lord.

No, Harry decided, he'll never accept that. They were anything but alike. There were some similarities-

_Cold, cruel, dark, __**murderer**_, a voice in his mind whispered to him, naming the traits they shared.

_Maybe_, he answered, _but never a Dark Lord, no mater how hard he tries to change that._

The charm of guilt was broken and Harry again was free from Riddle's manipulations. He lifted his head high, his face stony and answered him in steady voice.

"I'm disappointed too, Professor. I expected something better from you. I thought you were here, at Hogwarts, to teach and guide us. Clearly you're here only to create yourself an army"

Riddle looked at him hard, the soft expression he wore earlier slipping off his face. But instead of anger, Harry saw amusement.

"Why would I need an army?" he asked patronizingly, like talking to a child who made a silly assumption.

"War is coming, you said it yourself" Young Gryffindor wasn't the one to back down so easily.

"It is, but it's the Ministry who needs an army, not me. Why would I need one?"

Harry didn't answer, but he might had as well, for the words rang out in his mind, loudly and clearly:

_Because you're the Dark Lord_

Riddle sighed and lowered his head, suddenly looking very tired and old.

"Why are you fighting me, Harry? What have I done to you to make you turn against me?"

"You betrayed me" Potter said in a low voice, his eyes showing the anger and betrayal he felt, emotions once again overwhelming him.

"Did I? I'm afraid I don't understand, Harry"

A wall holding his emotions at bay suddenly broke. Long suppressed anger, resentment and fear filled him up. He didn't care that he was talking to a teacher or to a Dark Lord (if he truly was one). Right now all he cared about was to make the man who caused all of his suffering to know, to understand, what Harry was going through. He wanted to finally shed some of the burden he carried since the beginning of his sixth year onto another person. Who better than the man behind all of this?

"You gave me that blasted book! You knew I'll use the curse I found there. You knew what it'll do to-" his shout died on his lips with the name of the decreased wizard unable to leave his mouth. It also didn't help that Riddle looked up at him, a slight smirk and triumph lighting up his face.

"Ah, I thought we will never get to that. Tell me, Harry, how did Draco Malfoy die?"

**End of chapter 2**

* * *

**A/N: **Next chapter will hopefully shed some light on Tom Riddle, but I can't promise anything since I haven't even started it yet. It'll probably be published in July as I'll be more busy than usually. Sorry for such long breaks.

Untill then, review and let me know what you think.


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